"
"What did you think of it," I called to Stoner.
"I didn't know what to think first," was the answer, "then when I came
to myself I thought it might have done for me, and I got a kind of
shock just like I'd get when I have a narrow shave with a 'bus in
London."
"And you, Pryor?"
"I went cold all over for a minute."
"Bill?"
"Oh! Blast them is what I say!" was his answer. "If it's going to do
you in 'twill do you in, and that's about the end of it. Well, sing a
song to cheer us up," and without another word he began to bellow out
one of our popular rhymes.
Oh! the Irish boys they are the boys
To drive the Kaiser balmy.
And _we'll_ smash up that fool Von Kluck
And all his bloomin' army!
We came to a halt again, this time alongside a Red Cross motor (p. 059)
ambulance. In front, with the driver, one of our boys was seated; his
coat sleeve ripped from the shoulder, and blood trickling down his arm
on to his clothes; inside, on the seat, was another with his right leg
bare and a red gash showing above the knee. He looked dazed, but was
smoking a cigarette.
"Stopped a packet, matey?" Stoner enquired.
"Got a scratch, but it's not worth while talking about," was the
answer. "I'll remember you to your English friends when I get back."
"You're all right, matey," said a regular soldier who stood on the
pavement, addressing the wounded man. "I'd give five pounds for a
wound like that. You're damned lucky, and its your first journey!"
"Have you been long out here?" asked Teak.
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